Monday, January 23, 2012

Chaotic Last Day in London!

Thursday, January 19, 2012
London

Up, Up and Away--Not:

Afraid I would miss my wake-up call, I also set my I-Phone alarm; but I needn't have worried. I tossed and turned all night and was up long before 5.00 pm, having kept my bags packed and ready. When I went down to the lobby at 5. 30 am, I found more than half of the group there already. Before long, we were piling into our coach under the watchful eye of a tour escort named Robert, and making our way to Heathrow along quiet, pre-dawn streets.

And then, at Heathrow, pandemonium ensued. Our 10.25 am Continental Airlines flights to New York City had been cancelled "for mechanical reasons" with not so much as an apology from the airline. My students who had connecting flights to Boston from NY were panic-stricken. They airline dispersed our lot of 20 students through three different flights. There were a couple of harried hours during which our fate hung in the balance. I don't want to bore with details, but suffice it to say that we were given vouchers for a meal (with a limit of five pounds--five pounds, I tell you! In which world do the folks on Continental Airlines live--in the 1970s? I mean, what can you possibly get to eat at Heathrow for five pounds!?!?!?!?)

View of Windsor Castle:Anyway, I was placed on a flight that left at 12. 30 pm, i.e. two hours behind scheduled departure. I suppose it could have been worse. Nine students were placed on my flight and after a meal at Pret a Manger, we made a despondent lot as we boarded the flight and left the city. The redeeming factor for me was a nice view of the country as we became airborne with a truly splendid perspective on Windsor Castle for we flew directly above it. It was thrilling to see the Round Tower, St. George's Chapel and the formal gardens from the air all snuggling up to the banks of the Thames--and then, of course, just a few feet away (at least form the air) was Eton College with its beautiful red brick Tudor buildings that I so adore. Soon we were up in the clouds and I settled down to watch a few movies and do some writing on my computer. In fact, I actually finished writing one of my syllabi for the coming spring semester as well as one installment of my blog! Very productive time indeed. As for movies, I saw Contagion with Matt Damon and a really hysterically funny one called The Hangover Part I--so comic I think I shall rent Part II and see that too.

Back in the USA:
My car service was waiting for me at Newark airport in New Jersey when I arrived--Nabeel was keeping vigil over incoming flights and he drove me back to Connecticut, keeping a lively chatter along the way. Alas, I was tired and sleepy and a couple of times actually dozed off and then awoke as I was talking in my sleep. Really embarrassing! By the time I reached Southport, it was 7.00 pm local time. I made one call to let Llew know I had reached home then threw myself on my bed and went right off to sleep.

Highlights of my Travels--January 2012:
So I guess if I were to enumerate some of the best parts of my trip this time, they would be (not necessarily in any order):

1. Meeting my former student Elise after 10 years in her Kensington flat.
2. Laying eyes upon the portrait of the Kirkpatrick Children by George Chinnery at the Asia House in London.
3. The Beatles Tour in Liverpool which was superbly accompanied by a Blue Badge guide named Paul.
4. Dinner with my friend Bande Hassan at the Michelin-starred Locanda Locatelli in London.
5. Lunch with my friends Loulou and Jack at Ottolenghi's in Islington
6. Seeing Lenny Henry in Shakespeare's The Comedy of Errors at the National Theater.
7. Seeing Robert Lindsey and Joanna Lumley in The Lion in Winter at the Theater Royal Haymarket.
8. Visiting Westminster Abbey as a tourist after about 25 years.
9. Incredible home-cooked dinner at the home of my former neighbors Tim and Barbara and a chance to see friends Elizabeth and Andrew.
10. Buying my darling sterling silver teaset from the Silver Vaults.

Until I am in London next...thanks very much for following me on my travels. I hope you have had as much fun as I have had writing my accounts of my trip. Au Revoir!

Friday, January 20, 2012

Meeting Old Friends, Perusing Chinnery’s Work, Thames Dinner Cruise

Wednesday, January 18, 2012:
London

Regular readers of this blog know that every day I spend in London is an adventure. But, occasionally, there come days when I truly believe as if my being in the city at a particular point in time is fated. That was exactly what I felt today.

A Sudden Significant Phone Call:
And yet, my day had begun like most others—a leisurely lie-in with Bill and Sian of BBC’s Breakfast Show for company. Then, my mobile rang—and with it, my entire sense of the day’s purpose was altered. It was my friend, Murali, a London banker and good friend, who had made contact with me, three years ago, through my blog. Quickly discovering a common passion for poetry, art, travel, London and blogging, we developed ties that have survived time and distance. Murali knew, from the resumption of my blog posts, that I was in London, and, as casually as you imagine, drew my attention to an art exhibition at a smallish institution known as the Asia House on New Cavendish Street, right off Oxford Circus. Now I must admit that I had never heard of the place, but I did indeed know George Chinnery, although I had never had the privilege of viewing his work because it goes on display so rarely. The reason I knew of Chinnery was because he created the earliest surviving portraits of Anglo-Indians way back in the 17th century and his name had cropped up frequently in the process of my research on contemporary Anglo-Indians in Great Britain. In fact, the Scottish historian, William Dalrymple, not only goes into detail when describing Chinnery’s importance to early Anglo-India in his book White Mughals, but actually provides a reproduction of his most famous portrait: that of the Kirkpatrick Children, completed in Hyderabad, India, in 1805, just before they sailed away for England, never to return. I had sent Murali an email to ascertain whether or not this particular portrait was on display—for if it was, I intended to make the viewing of it a priority—and it was in response to my query that Murali had called. The Portrait, he said, was there—indeed, it was the very centerpiece of the exhibition! That clinched it for me. Come hell or high water, I would be at Asia House and would clear my schedule, if necessary, to gaze upon this wonder. But first things first: I had a meeting with someone I would be seeing after more than ten years and I was beyond excited. So without loitering around too much in my room, I got dressed and went downstairs to The Brasserie Restaurant in the hotel’s lobby for my last full English breakfast of this stay.

A Reunion after a Decade:
A short Tube ride from Victoria saw me at Kensington High Street walking briskly towards Kensington Palace and adjoining Hyde Park. My 9.30 am appointment was with Elise, a former NYU student, who had taken two courses and had traveled to India and Nepal with me on an NYU study tour, many moons ago. When I had last heard of her, she had won the Mountbatten Scholarship (happily, I might add, on my recommendation) and had taken off for London on a kind of year-long Anglo-American cultural exchange program. That was a whole decade ago. Elise who is 32 years old today, had married an English barrister, had become the new mother was a baby boy called Thomas and had temporarily given up working to be a full-time Mum. We had recently renewed contact through mutual friends in, of all places, Jordan, following my Middle Eastern travels, last April. Elise had invited me for coffee and a catch-up to her Kensington flat, right opposite the palace gates, and it was there that I found myself ringing the doorbell only to be allowed in by her. Needless to say, we had an affectionate reunion for our admiration and affection is mutual. I met the adorable Thomas, took a few pictures with Elise and him until he disappeared for a walk in the park with Elise’s sister who was visiting from the States. With coffee brewing, we started to fill each other in on the intervening years since we had last parted and I can only say how proud and happy I am for the way things have both worked out and fallen into place for this extraordinarily brilliant and quite beautiful young woman. Indeed she seems to be leading a charmed life! Promising to stay closely in touch, I took my leave of her as our tete-a-tete came to a reluctant end when Thomas returned from his walk and needed attention. I will be seeing Elise again, I know, for having resumed contact with her, I do not intend to lose touch with her for another decade.

The Flamboyant Mr. Chinnery:
I hopped into a bus right outside Elise’s building and rode all the way to Oxford Circus where, with mounting excitement, I went in search of George Chinnery’s portrait. It was a grey day, the sky heavily overcast for the first time since our week-long visit, but at least it wasn’t raining and it was incredibly mild. I walked briskly past All Soul’s Church, Lapham, and arrived at Asia House where I made my way into the basement to feast my eyes on the sketches, water colors and oil paintings of George Chinnery in a retrospective entitled, The Flamboyant Mr. Chinnery: Paintings from India and China. The small rooms were surprisingly crowded and instantly my eye was caught by the arresting portrait of the Kirkpatricks. I experienced several surreal moments as I simply could not believe that I was looking at the real thing--the painting that I had spent so much time examining through pictures.

http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6143/5967410915_ed6488e632.jpg
I suppose I ought to say something about the significance of this painting to scholars of Anglo-India. The little boy and girl in the portrait, dressed in traditional royal Hyderabadi costume, are the children of James Achilles Kirkpatrick, one-time Resident of Hyderabad, and his Mughal (Persian) princess bride, Khari-u-nissa. Their love-story, one of the saddest and most beautiful of 17th century Indian couplings, was publicized by Dalrymple in his book. Having met at a time when the British in India were unabashed Indophiles who eagerly embraced Indian culture and proudly made it their own, Kirkpatrick fell in love with the lovely princess, asked her father for her hand in marriage, was given it (provided he converted to Islam—which he did), had two children with her--a son followed by a daughter—and knew true happiness, until his fortunes took a tumble, when he became deeply maligned by his fellow-East India Company officials, who ostracized him, ridiculed his passion for Persian Islamic culture and demoted him. A broken man, Kirkpatrick returned to England with his children (leaving his wife Khair-u-nissa behind in Hyderabad) and died soon after. In England, the children (who had been raised in royal Islamic traditions in India) were baptized as Christians, renamed William and Catherine (Kitty) Aurora Kirkpatrick and placed in the care of their uncle (who had sired a large number of Anglo-Indian progeny himself following his own stint in India) and grew up with their Anglo-Indian cousins in England. If I remember correctly, William went on to have a tragic accident in childhood which led to the amputation of his arm and Kitty (who became a dear friend of the writer Thomas Carlyle and a source of much friction between Carlyle and his wife Jane) married a cavalier officer. The painting, which was in the possession of the son of a Mr. Simon Russel, one-time Chief Justice of Calcutta, had reached his estate in Swallowfields in Berkshire to which the grown-up Kitty was once invited (with her husband) for dinner. She recognized the painting and identified the subjects in them as being herself and her brother. After Russel’s death, the painting entered Kitty’s possession and probably remained in her family for generations. Today it is owned by HSBC who are partial sponsors of the exhibition. After they left Hyderabad, Khair-u-nissa never saw her children again, although it is said that she traveled a thousand miles, later in life, to England, to pay homage by her husband’s grave. There is also the information that she carried the painting on elephant back to India (but I am not sure how she came to own it).

Given the colorful history of the painting and the subjects in it, it wasn’t surprising that I spent a great deal of time studying it as well as the rest of the work on display. Although the paintings speak beautifully for themselves (Chinnery captured the architectural impact of early British colonialism on Calcutta, Dacca, Macao and Canton in his work, evoking an age that saw a fantastic fusion of cultures in positive and negative ways), the best part of the exhibition, to my mind, was a short 4-minute DVD that juxtaposed his paintings against those of modern-day locations and personages in India and China. They showed the vast impact of change quite stunningly. This device of creating a visual contrast in viewers’ minds between the old and the new was seen also at the Dickens and London exhibit at the Museum of London which I had also enjoyed earlier during my stay. Indeed if I must name the main highlight of my stay in London this time round, it would have to be the chance opportunity to see the Kirkpatrick Children as represented by the flamboyant George Chinnery.

Off for Lunch to Ottolenghi’s with Friends:
Then it was time for me to run to my next appointment—lunch at Ottolenghi’s in Islington—to meet my English friend Loulou and her son Jack. I was keen to try out this gourmet restaurant as I had heard about it through a TV show called Barefoot in London that had featured a visit to London by the Barefoot Contessa (Ina Garten) and her husband Jeffrey. She had raved about the fresh ingredients and novel combination of ingredients at Ottolenghi which specializes in Israeli-Lebanese cuisine. Because I am not too familiar with Islington and had not spent too much time there, I braved the endless walk along Upper Street from Angel Tube station to find the restaurant. One of the funny things about London is that one never really knows after one gets off the Tube train just how far away one’s final destination really is—and in this case, the place was miles away from the Tube station and I seemed to walk forever.

Although I was mortified that I was almost half an hour late, Loulou and Jack were waiting patiently for me and before long, we’d decided to have Ottolenghi’s platter that offered a choice of two salads (from a long list) and a main (from another long list). I chose a wild rice and basmati salad with cranberries, pistachios, fresh parsley and dill, another made of roasted eggplant, roasted tomatoes, feta cheese and pine nuts, and a main that featured English fillet of beef with a dill-mustard sauce. I have to say that the food was delicious but dessert was, for me at least, the best part of the menu: I chose a lemon and mascarpone tart (from those displayed in the window) which was just the right size and satisfyingly rich and creamy. Throughout our meal, we chatted about respective family members and mutual friends and caught up on the goings-on in our lives. Jack left first and then Loulou and I sauntered for a bit along Upper Street before she nipped off to do some shopping and I hopped into the Tube again.

Finally, Shopping:
Using the bus, I arrived at Brunswick Square (with daylight fast fading) and made it straight towards Waitrose from where I intended to buy my favorite packaged soups: Ainsley Herriot’s Aromatic Thai Chicken Soup with Lemon Grass. I can eat this by the bowlful and often add rice noodles to it at home. With my bag bulging, I hopped into the Tube at Russel Square and headed to Marks and Sparks at Marble Arch to buy Llew some of his favorite underwear and a few other bits and bobs. To his good luck, they were not only available but indeed found in his size and, grabbing a couple of packs, I quickly paid my bill and headed out. By the time I emerged out on to Oxford Street, might had fallen (although it was not quite 5 pm). I hopped into the first bus headed for Victoria intending to get started with my packing and organized for our big night out on the town. But as I climbed the stairs to get to my room, I passed the Reunion Bar where I spied some of my colleagues and Ifeona, another NYU colleague and friend, who is currently posted in London. I joined them for a drink as we talked about our stay and our day and then it was time to take a shower and leave for the last official item on our agenda—the Thames Dinner Cruise.

Cruising the Thames by Moonlight:
A company called Bateaux London offer exciting upscale Thames river cruises by moonlight that are formal affairs with a strict dress code. Our students had turned themselves out beautifully and occupying most of the lower deck of the ship that originated at The Embankment Pier, we made ourselves comfortable. We could not have wished for a more beautiful night. The mildness of the temperature allowed us to step out on deck to take pictures in our formal glad rags against the stunningly illuminated river-bank buildings. A jazz band provided music as our meal was served in several courses. It was classy and it was deelish! Glasses of champagne did the rounds, starters featuring a Carpaccio of venison, mandarin oranges and watercress were consumed followed by a most memorable apple sorbet to cleanse the palate. Mains in the form of chicken with truffled potatoes and sautéed mushrooms in a superb red wine sauce then appeared before us and, finally, we moved towards ‘pudding’—marinated pears in chocolate sauce with whiskey ice-cream. It was a tremendous feast indeed.

When the band changed tempo and introduced dance music, the students stepped forward to ask the faculty members for a dance and soon we were on the floor. It was difficult to persuade more students to continue to dance as they seemed more focused on taking group pictures on the upper deck to memorialize their adventures. At 10. 30, after sailing all the way to Greenwich, the boat dropped us back to The Embankment. Because it was such a spectacular evening, my colleague Robin suggested I join him and his partner Paolo for a walk along Hungerford Bridge—and how lovely that was! But then all too soon, it was time to hop on to the Tube again and return to our hotel to finalize our packing and put ourselves into return mode as we had a very early wake-up call and a 10. 30 am flight to catch. As always, I left part of my heart in my favorite city, knowing now that I need never think that it will be my last time. For I have returned enough times to know that opportunities to visit it keep popping up for me and since I adore it so much, I never sneeze at the chance to explore it all over again.

On to tomorrow now—our final morning in the city before we are, in the words of Simon and Garfunkel, homeward bound. More tomorrow...

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Lovely Lovely Liverpool!

Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Liverpool

Off to the North by coach:
We do not use the word 'coach' in America except in the Wells Fargo context--so I had to make a conscious effort not to say 'bus' when trying to shepherd my students on to the vehicle that arrived outside our hotel long before dawn broke. Leaving for Liverpool at 5. 30 am meant totting along a bagged brekkie (thoughtfully provided by The Grosvenor Hotel) and attempting to make up for lost zzzzs by dozing on it. It was well after 8 am when dawn did finally break over a cold and frosty landscape; but by then we were well and truly on our way.

We made one pit stop for a much-needed coffee at a Road Chef and then were on the highway again, arriving in Liverpool a little before noon. Skies had been overcast throughout our journey. At Albert Dock, we met Paul, our Blue Badge guide, who turned out to be the best I have ever known in all the conducted tours I have taken in the United Kingdom. He speedily divided our group into two lots, recommended that one follow him on a walking tour around the waterfront while the other head into the Merseyside Maritime Museum to view the Titanic exhibition on the first floor. Being in the first group, I was treated to his tour first and must say that it set the tone beautifully for the rest of the day which was prominently Titanic-oriented. Indeed, I commend Paul for the ease with which he launched, at short notice, into a 'Titanic Tour' aimed primarily at the course which I am teaching--The 100th Anniversary of the Sinking of the Titanic and the First Era of Globalization.

Our walk took in the main buildings on the waterfront--The Three Graces, as they are known: The Liverpool Port Building, the Cunard Building and the Royal Liver Building which is crowned by the distinctive 'Liver Birds' which have given the city its logo. After listening to Paul's detailed lecture on Liverpool's rich maritime history, we walked across the main road to the Albion House Building, international headquarters of the White Star Line which had owned the ill-fated vessel. Nicknamed the 'streaky bacon' building for its horizontal red and white stripes (comprising red brick and white Portland stone), it remained locked in the days following the ship's disappearance as harried relatives attempted to find out the fate of their loved ones--the news was delivered by the company's personnel from the third floor balconies of the building. It gave me goosebumps to recall these facts as we stood gazing at the building. Our group then wound its way to a Victorian building at 14 Castle Street which had held the offices of C.W and F. N. Black who had acted as agents for the musicians who had comprised the ship's band, every single one of whom was killed. Listening to Paul's story of the band's heroism as opposed to the shabbiness with which their relatives were treated after their deaths made my eyes swim. It was shocking and it was inhumane. We posed for a group picture against the background of Albion House and then returned to Albert Dock.

Exploring the Merseyside Maritime Museum:
On a past visit, I had managed to spend far more time in the Merseyside Maritime Museum and had taken in the excellent Slavery exhibition on its second floor. This time, however, with our focus on shipping disasters, it was the first floor that demanded our attention. Here we found deeply poignant accounts of the loss of three ships--the Lusitania, the Empress of Ireland and the Titanic. A superb working model of the ship made by Harland and Wolf in Belfast, Ireland, is on display as are various other pieces that comprise Titanic memorabilia. I watched my students take several notes and many photographs of the display cases as well as listen to audio recordings of Second Officer Litholler recall the sinking of the ship and film clips from the British Film Institute. Once again, I found my eyes swimming in the proximity of so many tangible mementos of the world's most famous shipping catastrophe.

While some of my students grabbed a sandwich, I browsed around the shop to find some posters that I can display during our colloquium on the Titanic on March 30, 2012. Indeed I was quite pleased with what I managed to unearth.

A Tour of Liverpool and Beatles' Land:
Then, it was time to pile on to the coach again and, under Paul's expert guidance, to receive insights into the commercial and cultural history of Liverpool which has seen a huge resurrection in recent times. He pointed out a number of beautiful Victorian buildings in the City Center including the splendid Neo-Classical edifice of St. George's Hall (on an earlier visit, I had occasion to see the spectacular interior with its superb Minton-tiled walls and flooring). We passed by the city's two landmark places of worship: the contemporary Roman Catholic Cathedral (handiwork of Sir Edwin Luytens, designer of New Delhi) and the Gothic Anglican one (designed by George Gilbert Scott) which is poised on a hill and dominates the skyline. On my very first visit to Liverpool, I had visited both places and wished my students could have had the same privilege--but time was of the essence and we had a lot of ground to cover.

Leaving the precincts of the city behind us, we wound our way "beneath the blue suburban skies" to Penny Lane which the Beatles have made the most popular lane in the whole wide world--a lane that lived on in their childhood memories and the lyrics of the song they penned. After we paused to take pictures besides the street sign, Paul took us to the roundabout at the end of the lane which features in the song. We saw the bank (now a Lloyd's bank) and the barber shop (Tony Slavin's) at which John Lennon and Paul McCartney got their hair cut as youngsters. Once again, I found myself breaking out in goosebumps for every bit of the tour was evocative of an era of rock and roll innocence that seems to have gone with the wind. Throughout the tour, when he wasn't playing Beatles' hits on the PA system, Paul was filling us in on the details of the lives of the two main musicians (John and Paul) who made history. Their family lives were absorbing and made more graphic by the fact that we stopped at 'Mendips', home of John Lennon and 20 Forthlin Road (it has no name), childhood home of Paul. Indeed it was in this modest terraced home that the most recognizable of the Beatles' songs were composed. Both homes are owned and managed today by the National Trust and are opened to visitors by appointment in the summer--alas, they are not manned in the winter.

Still, for me, it was a tremendous experience--and the pleasure continued at Strawberry Fields, which used to be the site of a school in whose grounds John Lennon was often brought for summer tea parties by his aunt when he was a child. The site is marked by elaborate wrought-iron scarlet gates through which we peered into the strawberry fields that lay just beyond. And a few minutes later, we were at LIPA (the Liverpool Institute for the Performing Arts) where John and Paul were once in high school together. It is nanaged by McCartney today and we were informed that the Beatle himself attends graduation commencement exercises every year and personally hands out diplomas to the school's graduates!

Afternoon Tea at the Adelphi Hotel:
Then, it was 4. 30 pm-- time for a pukka cuppa--and what more significant place than the Adelphi Hotel where I received lovely compliments from Paul. Not once, but twice did he say in his commentary how "inspired" and "creative" and "appropriate" it was that the organizers of the NYU tour had chosen to end the day in Liverpool with Afternoon Tea, Britain's quintessential meal, at the Sefton Suite which is an exact replica of the first-class smoking room on the Titanic. I, however, knew that I could not take all the credit for I had been informed by my friend Bishop Michael Colclough of London that it was in this hotel that Edwardian passengers, boarding the ocean liners from Liverpool's Docks, had spent the first couple of nights to accustom themselves gradually to their new accommodations. It was upon getting to know this that I had resolved to arrange Afternoon Tea for my students in its precincts.

The hotel, which had fallen--like many such establishments--into disuse, has been beautifully refurbished and it was in the Grand Main Lounge (rather than in the Sefton Suite) that tables were formally laid for our tea service. Under glittering chandeliers, we were seated to enjoy finger sandwiches, scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam and platters of mouthwatering cakes served with large pots of tea. While most of us from the Indian sub-continent take tea in the afternoon (a colonial hangover), this was a novel experience for most of my American students who plunged right in and enjoyed themselves immensely. When we had eaten our fill, we wandered around the hotel's public spaces, took pictures of the Sefton Suite (I have to say that I was quite disappointed by it, after all, for it was much less ostentatious than the Main Lounge) and then awaited the return of our coach to take us home.

I nipped out into the main shopping center to find myself a souvenir postcard and magnet and was able to return to the coach well in time for its departure. After one more pit stop en route, we arrived in T'Smoke at 10 pm and dove into the hotel in haste after what had been an eventful, if exhausting, day.

I spent a good couple of hours organizing and packing my suitcases for I cannot believe that our travels have almost come to an end. We have one more day and night before we return Stateside--and I am determined to make the most of every last second.

Monday, January 16, 2012

Touring the Tower,the Silver Vaults, Dickens' London & National Theater

Monday, January 16, 2012
London

An Early Start for the Tower of London:
Our NYU group was initially supposed to take a ride on the London Eye--but, to our bad luck, it remains closed this week for renovation. In lieu of that treat, our local travel agents--Anglo-America--suggested the Ceremony of the Keys at the Tower of London. Never having witnessed the spectacle, I was eager to attend and persuaded my students to get a quick start, an early breakfast and to make a beeline for the Tubes. Although we tried to race ahead, it is not easy getting a group of 45 odd people into the Underground trains at peak hour. We managed to get to the Tower by the skin of our teeth to watch the pomp and pageantry associated with the ceremony.

For the uninitiated, the Tower of London, which once housed the monarch (but merely the treasures of the Crown today in the form of the famed jewels), is locked up each evening (in yet another small spectacle) and opened each morning before the public is allowed inside. The locking-up ensures that no strangers or intruders linger on the premises to endanger the collection . Today, the holder of the keys is escorted by four armed guards because some time in the hoary past, one of the traders who used to fill the Tower, was annoyed at having to close down trade at the end of the day and cuffed the Key-bearer a whack. Every since then, he is protected in this important duty. The march down the main pathway inside the Tower and back takes only a few minutes--after which we were shooed off and told to return with the rest of the public at 10 am.

A Stroll Along Tower Bridge:
With an hour to kill, my colleague Robin and I decided to climb the stairs leading to Tower Bridge and to stroll along its length. It was a gorgeous morning, if a little nippy, and we kept thinking how much we've lucked out with the weather. Glorious sunshine has been following us around all week long and I am afraid to comment on the weather lest I might jinx it. The stroll was just delightful and when we returned to the guard box near the moat, we were right in time to begin our tour. Again, unfortunately, there is a whole lot of construction going on inside the Tower--which has meant that the Yeoman Warders (also known as Beefeaters) are not able to do their normal rounds of guided tours.

Left to my own resources, I made my way first to Bloody Tower, renowned as the prison of Sir Walter Raleigh who spent nine years inside with his family and wrote his History of the World in a room while under captivity. I had not seen this room in 25 years--so it was a refreshing addition to the bits of the Tower that I usually do not miss. A first edition of Raleigh's book was proudly on display in a glass case as were the desk and chair at which he produced his masterpiece. Bloody Tower was also the site of the murder of the two young sons of Edward IV and although it has never been proven who was responsible for their deaths, fingers of blame have pointed variously at Richard III and Henry VII. A very dramatic rendition of the circumstances surrounding their deaths is available in the room in which they were allegedly smothered in their beds as they slept.

Then it was time for me to join the guided tour at 10. 30 am and in the company of a Yeoman Warder with a particularly strong Welsh accent, I was led to the Church of St. Peter Ad Vincula (St. Peter in Chains). There, the assembled throng was treated to a history of the church together with many apologies from the guide about the reasons for the abbreviated tour. I was delighted to find a memorial plaque on the wall of the chapel to Field-Marshal Chetwode who had served in India and whose daughter, Lady Penelope Chetwode (married to Poet Laureate Sir John Betjeman), I had met and made friends with long years ago while I was a teenager in Simla, in North India. I asked the guide if he would make an exception and permit me to take a picture of the plaque and he did so "with pleasure" (or so he said).

My next stop was the White Tower, the oldest part of the Tower and once London's highest structure (at four storeys) and visible for a good five miles as one approached the city. Today it is used as a receptacle for royal arms and armour and presents a wonderful opportunity to study such implements (if one is so inclined). I then made my way to yet another building that houses an exhibition on the Royal Fusiliers and then, because I know that I ought to save the best for last, I went into the building holding the famous Crown Jewels. No matter how often one gazes at them, they are still fascinating and devoid of the summer crowds that make a visit to the Tower rather challenging, it was great to have the hall to ourselves. As always, the Koh-i-noor Diamond and the Cullinan (Star of Africa) Diamond coax the loudest gasps but it is the darling 60th Diamond Jubilee crown designed and made for Queen Victoria that always steals my heart away.

A quick nip into the Crown Jewels shop saw me emerge from it with a lovely pearl necklace based on Tudor designs--at a heavily discounted price, it was indeed a bargain and made a nice souvenir of my visit.

Lunch with Barbara near Chancery Lane:
Then, I was on the 15 bus (hoping to hop into one of the old Routemasters but not succeeding) and getting off at Chancery Lane down which I walked past all the smart shops selling expensive clothing that only the lawyers that frequent the area can afford. My destination was 25 Southampton Building, where my friend and former next-door neighbor Barbara, has her office--as a patent lawyer it is only fitting that her office is located in the basement of the former London Patent Office. After I went through stringent security, Barbara gave me a tour of the building and grand it was too--the ground floor retains the look of a library (though this is only decorative today), the towering ceiling was decorated with plaster motifs, a huge clock is embedded in the center and galleries resembling the various decks of a ship surround the interior. It was just fabulous. Barbara then took me down to her little office over which her Office Bear keeps guard (for she is a collector of teddy bears).

When our tour was completed, Barbara and I made our way to High Holborn to look for a light meal and it was at a pub called The Melton Mowbray which I had passed by a gazillion times as it was in my former 'hood, that we settled down in a corner close to a fireplace to chat over beer and cider and soup for Barbara and a delicious Mushroom and Mustard Tart for me. All too soon, however, our cozy tete-a-tete had to end as Barbara had to return to work--but not before she led me into the London Silver Vaults that are concealed in the basement of the building about which few visitors know. In fact, it seems that I had to return to America to find the place!

Exploring London's Silver Vaults:
London's Silver Vaults are just that: well-secured vaults for the storage of sterling silver items that are prized for their provenance, antiquity and artistic accomplishment. I had intended to survey the merchandise only--revelling in the knowledge that such museum quality pieces were actually available for sale--at a handsome price, of course, but available nonetheless. Barbara left me to my own devices in a few moments to return to work; and less than half an hour later, I made a purchase that thrills me so much that I have absolutely no buyer's remorse although it was a rather impulsive buy. I look forward now to my solitary tea-time at home in Southport when I shall have the pleasure of serving my own tea in an antique Victorian silver teapot with matching sugar and creamer.

Off to see Dickens' London at the Museum of London:
Then, I was hopping buses again and heading to the London Wall to get to the Museum of London to see the special exhibition entitled 'Dickens' London' that celebrates the 200th anniversary of the novelist's birth. Barbara had advised me to see the 20 minute film (that is usually seen at the end of the exhibition) at the outset and I was glad I did. The museum which is free to the public, charged eight pounds for the ticket--but for my money, being able to see the original unfinished painting by Bucks (entitled Dickens' Dream), the desk and chair that he used while writing his novels at his house in Gad's Hill near Rochester, Kent (and which feature in the painting) were worth every penny of my entry fee. Several manuscripts, proofreading copies and first editions of his novels were on display as were large numbers of paintings and engravings of the various parts of London that he had frequented and loved--most of them are found within a compact two mile radius of the City and comprise places that I myself known so well and love. So, overall, I enjoyed perusing the display.

I did not want to leave the Museum of London without spending some time at the new exhibit entitled The Victorian Walk (I had seen it briefly on my last visit four months ago in August and had felt compelled then to return to spend more time in it at a later date). Needless to say, it tied in perfectly with the Dickens' exhibition I had just seen--and I loved every moment of the time I spent there as I browsed from one store front to the next created to replicate the busy streets of London in Victoria's reign--from the barber and the banker to the pharmacist and the grocer. There was even a public urinal dating from those times for the use of which people paid a penny: hence the expression "to spend a penny!"

Joining my Colleagues for Dinner at Wagamama:
With an hour to spare before I met my colleagues (Wilnelia, Robin, and Paolo and Louis) for dinner on the South Bank, I took the 100 bus to St. Paul's from where I changed to the 15 to ride along Fleet Street. I alighted at Somerset House, crossed Waterloo Bridge on foot and arrived at Wagamama which is a favorite Japanese chain of restaurants in London (alas, not yet present in the US). It was an especially pleasant walk along the river bank with the beautifully illuminated buildings throwing multi-colored reflections into the water. Before long, my colleagues joined me and we sat down to enjoy big bowlfuls of soup that swam with noodles and seafood and all manner of delicious morsels. When we had eaten our fill, we made our way to our next appointment--a theater date at the National.

Seeing Lenny Henry in The Comedy of Manners:
Having seen The Comedy of Manners at the Regent's Park Open Air Theater with my friend Cynthia less than two years ago, I would ordinarily have been reluctant to see the play again. But when I had discovered that comedian Lenny Henry would be taking the lead role, it became a no-brainer for me and I looked a ticket online without losing any time at all. I had adored Henry in Chef, a BBC TV series that I had first seen on PBS in the States. So you can imagine what a great time we had at the theater for Henry was in top form, the production was superb, the sets and set changes were simply marvelous and the audience was amazingly interactive. Shakespeare's words were articulated with humor and brilliance. It made for a fun-filled evening at the theater and I felt deeply gladdened that I had managed to get a ticket.

A Stroll over Hungerford Bridge Back Home:
Not wanting to stay up too late, we walked across Hungerford Bridge stopping frequently to take pictures of the beautifully illuminated city buildings until we reached the Embankment from where we took the Tube to get back home. It did not fail to occur to me that I had started the day strolling over an antique brigde (Tower Bridge) and was ending it by strolling over another--the far more conemporary Hungerford.

Without wasting too much time, we reached our rooms and decided to make an early night of it as we have to start before dawn tomorrow for our coach ride to Liverpool.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Braving Illness, Cruising to Greenwich, Checking out London's Food

Sunday, January 15, 2012
London

For the third time in a row, my stays in London have been disrupted by a bout of illness that comes from left field and brings me to my knees--literally. After spending a sleepless night during which my body temperature waxed and waned, I awoke at dawn with a splitting headache, nausea, weakness--the works. I disregarded two hotel wake-up calls and when it felt as if I simply couldn't drag myself from my bed, I called my colleague to tell her I had no choice but to opt out of our excursion to Greenwich. Popping a pill into my mouth, I pulled the comforter around me and hoped to get back to sleep feeling even sicker with disappointment.

It was about 10. 45 when I awoke feeling much better. I jumped into the shower in the hope that water's rejuvenating effects would work their magic--and they did! I nipped down quickly to the restaurant for brekkie, then got out of the hotel and jumped on to the Tube and the DLR (Docklands Light Railway) with the idea of getting to Greenwich and linking up with my students. As it turned out, public transport worked wonders and within 40 minutes I was at in the quaint heart of Greenwich.

Exploring Greenwich:
My students, who had left the hotel at 9 am, had taken the ferry from the Embankment and in the company of Warren, our Blue Badge Guide, had a wonderfully enlightening morning. By the time I arrived in Greenwich at 12 noon, they had climbed the hill to the Royal Observatory at which point they had dispersed. My energy levels were much too low to carry me up the hill. I entered the National Maritime Museum instead (where I hooked up with my colleague Wil and her partner Louis) and made a beeline for Nelson's blood-stained coat in the dimly-lit gallery where it is proudly displayed. Because I had explored the museum before at length and in detail, I walked briskly to Christopher Wren's masterpiece--the Royal Naval College--and entered two of my favorite rooms in the entire country: The Chapel (with masterworks on the ceiling by James Stewart and on the altarpiece by Benjamin West) and the magnificent Painted Hall (considered to be the second most beautiful painted room in Europe (after Rome's Sistine Chapel)--the handiwork of James Thornhill who also painted the interior of the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral. I spent an enormous amount of time in these rooms in order to study their decorative details at length. Outside, with the sun pouring down upon Greenwich's green expansive lawns and statuary, I took dozens of pictures.

I next went to The Museum attached to the Tourist Information Hall to ponder over exhibits that comprise 'Discover Greenwich'. And indeed I did. What I love most about being a perpetual student of history is that there is always yet another new fact I learn no matter how often I revisit historic haunts. I did not know, for instance, that a royal palace called Placentia had once stood on Wren's site: Henry VIII loved it, his daughters Mary and Elizabeth were born in it. When Inigo Jones built the Queen's Palace for Queen Charlotte, he was only adding to a number of buildings that had already seen royal occupation. Overall, I had a great time and was delighted that I had overcome my early joust with illness and had made the decision to save the day.

However, I discovered soon that I was not the only one feeling out-of-sorts. It seems that jetlag and their incessant partying has caught up with my students who were dropping with fatigue on the boat ride. A decision was, therefore, taken to terminate our visit early and instead of taking the 5 pm ferry back to the city, we boarded one at 3 pm. I made the most of my abbreviated cruise and upon disembarking at Tower Gate, we hopped into the Tube to return to Victoria.

Off to F&M for some Foodie Fun:
My next port of call was Fortnum and Mason at Piccadilly: indeed I never leave London without doing the mandatory rounds about its enticing merchandise and feeling deeply tempted to buy it all. I contented myself this time round, however, with jars of goose fat (impossible to find in the USA and perfect for roasting potatoes) and jars of Jubilee Majestic Marmalade: F&M's unique blend made especially for the Queen's Diamond Jubilee and studded with flakes of gold! Sheer decadence in a jam jar! I bought a few more bits and bobs before I decided to seek refreshment in The Parlor on the first floor. Although I was dying for a cuppa, I decided to have a sundae instead. The Parlor is famed for his Knickerbocker Glory--a sundae that comprises raspberry puree, fresh raspberries, vanilla ice-cream and whipped cream. I chose instead to eat a 'Dusty Road' Sundae composed of Chocolate, Praline and Coffee ice-cream, amaretti biscuits and caramel sauce. It just hit the spot in that it ended my hunger pangs but did not fill me up to capacity. I had a dinner engagement later in the evening and needed to save some room.
When I had finished surveying F&M's lovely selection of china, silver and crystal on the top floors and section after section of gastronomic temptation on the lower floor, I hopped several buses to get to Seymour Street near Marble Arch for my next appointment at 7 pm.

Dinner at Locanda Locatelli:
In recent months, chef Giorgio Locatelli's restaurant Locanda Locatelli, located in the Churchill Hotel on Portman Square, has been very much in the news for the acquisition of the gold standard in the restaurant business--a Michelin star. Locatelli, a Sicilian, has also written a book entitled Tastes of Sicily and is renowned for his use of the best ingredients superbly, if simply, prepared. So when Llew's former colleague and our family friend Mr. Hassan, suggested that I meet him there for dinner, I did a double take. Indeed I was well in time for our 7 pm seating and was amazed to find out that he is a regular at the place and is greeted personally by the wait staff who know him well.

For the next couple of hours, we had a leisurely 'catch up' over some of Locatelli's specialities: both of us chose Tagliatelli with Lobster, chilli and garlic oil for our Primary source. For my Secondi, I chose medium-rare venison steaks served with radichhio de Treviso and mushrooms while my friend chose the sea bass. Both dishes were very satisfying indeed and we could well see why Locatelli has built up such a sterling reputation. Unfortunately, having snacked on the excellent bread basket while sipping a glass of Prosecco, I had not saved room for dessert and coffee. Sweet somethings in the form of chocolate truffles, marzipan-filled choux puffs and marshmallows were presented with the compliments of the chef and it was with difficulty that I managed to stand up and walk off. My friend dropped me back to the Hotel Grosvenor where I decided to make a very early night of it in view of my very recent recovery.

Our travels are going swimmingly and I can only hope that they will continue to be as fulfilling as the days go by.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Shopping in the Morning, Culture at the End of Day

Saturday, January 14, 2012
London

I suppose I should add a couple more items to my London To-Do List--the sort of tems that make me feel as if I've never ever left: braving the Middle Eastern throngs at Harrod's post-Christmas sales, haggling for reproductions of hotel silver at Portobello Road, tucking into a steak and ale pie at a historic pub (like The George, London's oldest galleried inn, now managed by The National Trust in Southwark) and, last, but certainly not the least, sitting on the edge of one's seat during a drama at the West End. We did all this and more today!

The Pleasures of a Full English Breakfast:
So, with sleep still fixing my eyelids tightly together, I managed to awake at 8 am, showered, got dressed and descended into The Brasserie which is the restaurant in our hotel, The Grosvenor, for a full English breakfast--my American students understood why it was so named when they could scarcely get out of their seats at the end of the meal. They described it as "awesome" but stuck to the known and familiar: it was only at my insistence that they tried some of the black pudding on the menu and pronounced it to be an acquired taste!

Braving Harrods' throngs:
Since they had the morning to themselves, they disappeared in order to go their separate ways after brekkie...but I took the Tube to Harrods where I'd made plans to hook up with my friend Bashir who arrived from Wembley to spend the morning with me. The crowds at Harrods were insane especially since this weekend they're offering a ten per cent discount over and above their unbelievably low prices. I made a beeline for the cosmetics and toiletries section and was pleased to walk away with Woods of Windsor lavender soaps for a song--not to mention tea cozies that were priced at a pound each! I mean how could I possibly go wrong?

On Portobello Road:
Then Bash and I took a bus to Portobello Road because it was a Saturday morning and, although a Londoner for his entire life, he had never been! I had warned him that the place offers nothing remarkable these days-those days are long gone when I had bought a superb Imari umbrella stand and a porcelain Shelley jelly mould . There was some hotel silver, but I have to say that hallmarks are so easily faked that I was reluctant to believe anything was genuine, leave alone antique! Still, we enjoyed the Notting Hill neighborhood on a really lovely morning. I was afraid we'd get nothing but grey skies throughout our stay; but although temperatures are bracing, there is golden sunshine following us persistently everywhere.

We didn't stay on Portebello Road for long: throngs were rather daunting there too. It is hard to believe that it is not really tourist season in the UK for every second voice is speaking a foreign language. We got back on the Tube to Victoria so that I could drop off my buys and pick up my opera glasses from my room: I never go to the theater in London without carrying them along.

"In Southwark at the Tabard as I lay...":
A large number of my students met us in the hotel lobby at the appointed hour of 3.00 pm to make our way on the Tube to Southwark to The George Inn for a very early supper. I was rather hungry by this point--my very filling English breakfast having been long digested through the energy required for my manic walking tour of the city. At London Bridge Tube Station, I paused to give my students a short literary history of Southwark and its associations with Chaucer, Shakespeare and Gower before we trooped into the pub to be directed to a private room with a whole lot of ambiance--thanks to exposed beams on the ceiling and stucco walls. Our three-course menu kicked off with a Tomato Soup and was followed by a Steak and Ale Pie with Roast Potatoes, really delectable Taro Root chips and Green Beans. For dessert (or more correctly, pudding), we had a choice of Chocolate Bavarois (no marks for guessing that it was what I opted for) or Apple Crumble that swam in a piping hot custard. Indeed our meal could not have been more English and we did enjoy it.

On Foot to the Monument:
Then, we were crossing Southwark Bridge on foot to get across the Thames and at Christopher Wren's Monument, I paused to give my students yet another mini account of the Great Fire of London of 1666 and Wren's role in its reconstruction. Needless to say, several felt tempted to climb the 350 odd steps to the gilded urn of flames at the top and probably will do so soon. Unfortunately, I lacked the time to take them to neighboring Pudding Lane to show them the spot where the fire is alleged to have started--but they did get the idea.

The Lion in Winter at the West End:
At Monument Underground station, we took trains to Piccadilly and then spent the rest of the evening marveling at thespians like Robert Lindsey and Joanna Lumley who took the roles of Henry II and Eleanor of Acquitaine in The Lion in Winter at the Theater Royal Haymarket. A truly witty script kept us chuckling throughout and the sets, music ( mostly Gregorian chants) and performances kept us absorbed.

I said goodbye to Bash (who had joined us for dinner and the play) right before the majority of us got back on the Tube to the hotel. Because we are still on New York time, none of us felt ready for bed--so it was not surprising that the 'chaperones' congregated at the Reunion Bar for cocktails. I had a chance to say goodbye to my colleague Mahnaz's friend Tessa who was visiting her from Florence (as she returns to Italy tomorrow) before I decided to call it a day.

Tomorrow will mean an early start as we head for a day out on the river to Greenwich. I am energized by the vivacity of this city and still rarin' to go...

Friday, January 13, 2012

Back on Terra Britannica--January 2012

Friday, January 13, 2012
London

So Good To Be Back on Terra Britannica!

I guess you can say I am in London each time I transit through Heathrow airport to and from India. But to really feel as if I've returned to London, I must:

1. Ride the Tube
2. Ride the Red Buses (preferably on the upper deck)
3. Sashay down Oxford Street in the thick of tourist-shoppers
4. Tour an ancient monument
5. Return to the tearooms of one of the department stores and have a genuine English pot of tea.
6. Peruse some of my favorite canvasses at the National Gallery

So guess what? I feel I have truly returned to London because today I did all this and more--in the less than twelve hours since I landed on Terra Britannica.

But let me take you back to Southport, Connecticut, that I was almost relieved to leave behind on a wet windy afternoon. A chatty chauffeur named Nabeel from Damascus, Syria, representing the Prime Time Shuttle Limo service to the airport, arrived on the dot and dropped me to Newark airport in New Jersey in record time despite having stopped at a highway rest stop to buy me a hazelnut coffee! I was the second person from my batch of NYU students to arrive and I checked in immediately, thrilled to have been allotted a window seat. Before long, the majority of my troupe of 15 students (plus 2 faculty members) arrived. Excitement was palpable as we cleared security, boarded our aircraft and were airborne on a very light flight indeed. It didn't take me long to figure out that I could easily spread out to the three-seaters at the back of the aircraft where I could stretch out and fall asleep, post-dinner. Sarah Jessica Parker, Greg Kinnear and Pierce Brosnan kept me chuckling for a while in I Don't Know How She Does It before I popped a sleeping pill (as is my wont on overseas flights) and slipped off into oblivion for the next four hours.

Needless to say, I awoke bright-eyed and bushy-tailed just before we landed at Heathrow. Unfortunately, it was still too dark at 6. 20 am for me to pick out the landmarks of the city although we flew directly above it on our descent. Still, the O2 Millennium Dome was clear as were Tower Bridge and the skyscrapers of Canary Wharf.

I also discovered, on this flight, for the first time, that using twin styrofoam cups packed with paper towels wrung out in hot water really do work for blocked and painful ears (that I have inherited from my Dad) when dealing with aircraft landings. The Continental Airlines flight attendant was very helpful in acceding to my request (which, apparently, is frequent) and promised me that the method works. And indeed it did! Just when I thought my pain would grow unbearable, I turned a corner, as it were, and the discomfort gradually subsided until it disappeared altogether in just a few minutes. Live and Learn!

Visiting Westminster Abbey:
After we cleared immigration and claimed our baggage, we waited only 15 minutes in the lobby before the second NYU troupe arrived; and after meeting our airport rep Adam, we were on our way to the city in a double decker Westway coach with a very nice driver named John. Although we had just made a long trans-Atlantic crossing, we had to launch straight into our program of sight-seeing as check-in time at our hotel was 3 pm.

So on we went to Westminster Abbey where we were met by two Blue Badge guides, Abigail and Warren. We stuck to our two groups as we launched into a fascinating discovery of British history from the time of Edward the Confessor to the present day--guides never fail to inform visitors that the site was the venue of the internationally-televised wedding of Prince William to Kate Middleton . With an hour and a half at our disposal to take it all in, the guides did a splendid, if concise, job of pointing out the highlights of the vast space: the Coronation Chair (now minus the Stone of Scone which has been returned to Scotland where I saw it three years ago) , the heights of the nave (the highest in the land), the poppy-encircled gravestone of the Unknown Soldier, the monuments to Issac Newton and other important personalities including a host of monarchs of England and indeed Scotland (Mary, Queen of Scots, is prominent). Since I was returning to the Abbey as a tourist after almost 25 years (I have attended services in the abbey very frequently through the years), I found the entire visit most enlightening. In particular, my interest was piqued by the tombs of Elizabeth I and her half-sister Bloody Mary, the Tomb of Edward the Confessor and Henry VII and, of course, the plethora of writers in Poet's Corner.

Other interesting bits of the Abbey are the mosaic altarpiece, the beautifully carved wooden choir stalls, the octagonal Chapter House with its superb ceramic tiles (once used for meetings of Parliament), the oldest door in Britain, the oldest room in Britain (now housing a small chapel), the Abbey Museum (holding Britain's oldest altarpiece)--all dating from way back when! Being from America, we were, of course, taken to the Anglo-American chapel with its exquisite stained glass windows (where Oliver Cromwell lies buried) and a hole in the wall (now covered with a piece of glass) where a bomb came through during World War I.

Apart from the amazing interior, the abbey boasts superb cloisters and high Gothic architecture on the exterior that can hold one enthralled for hours. Group entry is from the lovely adjoining Dean's Yard. What I loved most about our visit was that we had the place almost entirely to ourselves with none of the crowds that jostle for elbow room during the busy summer months. I have to say that I was simply delighted to have had the opportunity to see this historic monument with the eyes of a studied tourist and to have done so in the company of expert guides who truly know their city was indeed a privilege.

Double Decker Bus Tour of London:
No sooner did we finish touring the Abbey than we were on the coach again winding our way around the city's main sights. In the able hands of Warren who informed me that he is a journalist and published writer of local London history, we were shown the standard sights and treated to an informative and entertaining commentary from which even I learned volumes. We alighted only once to take pictures outside St. Paul's Cathedral and then we were on our way to our hotel as jetlag had begun to catch up with several of my students, some of whom had traveled to New York from various parts of the USA to board their flights.

On to Hotel Grosvenor, Victoria:
You could not find a more centrally located hotel in London if you tried! The Grosvenor, on 'Buck's Palace' Road, is one of the Victorian 'railway hotels' that were created to house passengers for a night or two before they boarded trains from major termini in the 19th century. Most of these fell into disarray and The Grosvenor, which is one such, was completely refurbished and renovated very recently and now stands proudly, reclaiming its past glory with none of its aura faded in the slightest. If anything, it shines anew, its lobby making a striking first impression as you troop in under the light of a gigantic crystal chandelier.

We waited a while for our rooms to be ready; but throughout we had impeccable service and superb attention to detail from the staff and the representative of our tour company. Before long, we were all provided with room keys and as I made my way along the first (American second!) floor corridors (which did seem interminable), I was deeply taken by the tasteful manner in which the renovation has been conducted. My room is modern, immaculate and spacious. I was just delighted at what I saw. I unpacked swiftly and made myself at home. I imagine that most of my co-travelers made a beeline for their bed--not yours truly. No sirree, Bob. I swiftly freshened up and armed with gifts for my hosts set out for Holborn for my dinner appointment with my former next-door neighbors in my building near Chancery Lane.

A Pukka Cuppa at Marks & Sparks:
But, of course, I was much too early for dinner, so I hopped off at Oxford Street to join the usual throngs of determined shoppers. I headed first to Marks and Sparks' Food section to buy some of my particular favorites--all housed in the Frozen desserts section! Then, weighted down with my buys, I found the tearoom where I pepped myself up on a pot of Gold Blend tea and felt as if I was truly in England again! Miracles are wrought on the strength of a pukka cuppa alone!

Leonardo da Vinci at The National Gallery:
Fortified, I hopped red buses and Tube trains like a pro feeling truly as if London is my second home. Because Fridays mean late evening closing at the National Gallery, I had to take advantage...so I hopped off at Trafalgar Square (all beautifully lit for the evening) and walked to the Museum which happens to be one of my favorite places in the whole wide world. I always think that I will spend just a hour or so among my best-loved pieces but, invariably, I lose control of time and before I know it, I have spent hours, my back starts aching and my feet start protesting...but still I soldier on...so reluctant do I always feel to part company with the Old Masters.

I have to admit that I looked with envy upon those lucky ticket-holders emerging out of the special exhibiton on Leonardo da Vinci which is the most talked-about European art event this winter. Tickets are sold out with only a few given out each day for which queues form before dawn! I reached the entrance of the special exhibition and read up on the main items to be seen inside. Then, disappointed, I walked away.

Dinner Par Excellence with Old Friends in Holborn:
When I felt as if I lingering any longer would make me unfashionably late for my dinner appointment, I left the museum and found my way by bus to Holborn--passing, along the way, my former stomping grounds and revelling in the sense that I have never really left London for part of my heart continues to inhabit its compelling corners. When I jumped off the bus and made my way to my former building, my mounting nostalgic for an incredible time in my life was simply too much to take. With trembling fingers, I punched in the code number for Tim and Barbara's flat and was let into the familiar lobby that I love so well.

Then it was reunion time as, warm hugs and kisses later, I was catching up with my dear friends whose generosity is marched only by their amazing culinary prowess. Tim creates meals that beggar description but tonight's outdid all the rest. His Steak with a Brandy Cream Sauce was truly to die for--matched only by perfectly roasted potatoes and delicate grilled asparagus. Dessert was Tim's signature Brown Bread Ice-Cream--this time made more special (if indeed such a thing is possible) by the addition of ground hazelnuts and a heart of strawberry sorbet! Exquisite is simply not the word. It is not great to start one's first meal in London so stupendously, I thought, because it can only go downhill from here!

Still, apart from a gastronomic feast, the evening was remarkable for the fun company of our mutual friends, Elizabeth Miles and her husband Andrew, who had journeyed from Bristol and a lovely couple I was meeting for the first time, James and Netta. Just when I thought the meal could not possibly get any better, out came the cheese and crackers--and a nicer selection would be hard to find. And then there was more...Belgian chocolates served with coffee (or, as in my case, ginger tea). And I haven't yet mentioned our libations of which there were many: we started with glasses of champagne, moved on to wine (I drank beer), then had an outstanding glass of Australian Sauternes with dessert and enjoyed a glass of Madeira with coffee! What could possibly be more decadent? I even decided to overlook the fact that I have an allergy to wine!

It was almost 11 pm before we got up to leave. With Elizabeth and Andrew staying on for the night, I took my leave of my warm and generous friends and found my way to Chancery Lane Tube station--all of fifteen steps away! And then, before you could say Hotel Grosvenor, I was entering its doors, sorting out formalities associated with getting a wifi connection in my room ...and was on my way to writing this blog.

If today is any indication of the week that lies ahead, I am one happy camper. Londinium, here I come!